He wants a relationship. Angelica turned the words over in her head as she tossed and turned in her hotel bed that night, the sheets sliding uncomfortably along her skin as she remembered the hot, eager sensation of Noah’s hands and lips on her body.

The r-word continued burning its way through her brain hours later while she gulped down her mediocre continental breakfast, scalding the roof of her mouth with terrible coffee, before heading back to her beloved new home.

And it didn’t go away as she had her hair and makeup done for the day, nor as she ruined Leah’s work by scraping away layers of grime from the grout of the third guest bathroom on camera. When she rubbed the grit out of her eyebrows, she swore she heard it whisper relationshiiiiiiiip as it fell into the sink.

Later, she held up wood stain samples to compare them to the original wood floor of the second bedroom, where they’d had to put in a patch of new wood to replace a rotting section. Noah’s face looked back at her from the empty air between the pieces of wood, and she put them down hastily.

She heard a tiny beep and turned to Roger, who was frowning at her from next to a camera.

“What’s wrong with you?” The cameraman was nothing if not blunt.

“What do you mean?” Angelica glanced at the camera. The little red ‘recording’ light was off. The beep she’d heard had been Roger powering the unit down.

“You’re a thousand miles away, Angelica. And you’re not giving good face.”

She could feel herself blanching. “I’m not—” she started to argue, but it was no use because he wouldn’t let her bullshit her way out of what she knew to be true.

“You’re not.” His tone was firm. “I’m not trying to be a dick, but get it together.” He gathered up a few cables in one arm and used the other hand to flip his baseball cap from backwards to forwards, a sign he wouldn’t be looking into the viewscreen anytime soon. “Let’s take a break.”

“I don’t need—”

He held up a hand. “You do need a break, and so does everyone else.” He paused, and Angelica thought he looked uncomfortable. “Do you … want me to get Leah? To, I don’t know, talk?”

Angelica could feel her eyebrows going up, and she leaned toward him curiously. Just what was the state of affairs between those two? “Do you have the ability to ‘get Leah’ now?”

He narrowed his eyes. “In a professional sense, yes. In a personal sense, that’s none of your damn business.”

“She’ll tell me.”

“That’s her choice, not mine. And this is about you, not me. But nice try.” He pointed a finger toward her head. “You still have grout in your hair.” With that volley, he left the room, dodging the stain sample she threw halfheartedly after him.

She sank down against the wall, sitting on the freshly patched section of wood.

Noah wanted a relationship. But did she want one? Her last few forays into the dating game hadn’t been spectacular. One promotional relationship with a co-star that had continued into a halfhearted fling; a three-month stint with a producer friend of Jai’s; a couple of weeks with a corporate lawyer. None of them had made her feel the way Noah did.

Each of those men and her time with them had been uncomplicated … and uninspiring. Sure, they didn’t often behave like Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde, nor did they have muddied familial relationships she hadn’t known about. And there definitely hadn’t been shouting matches over inexplicable arguments. But there also hadn’t been days exploring ewok forests, or quiet conversations over great food with laughter. And the sex? Well, there was no ignoring that sex with Noah was simply the best she’d ever had.

But a relationship? She’d already broken her own rules by sleeping with him, her business partner. She’d practically fucked him on top of their signed contract for the vineyard deal.

She nibbled on the skin around her thumbnail, worrying it between her teeth, while she considered her options.

“Angelica?” Leah’s voice came from the hall.

“In here.”

The makeup artist popped her head into the room. “Want to tell me what’s up?”

“Only if you go first.”

Leah shrugged, set her bag down inside the door, and joined Angelica on the floor. “I’m an open book, honey.”

“Are you and Roger back together?”

“We’re sleeping together, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Not exactly.”

“You’re asking if we’re in loooooove?” Leah drawled the word with a bit of extra Southern flair in her accent, and Angelica snorted a laugh. “Who knows?”

“Would you say you’re in a relationship with him?”

“Why the sudden interest in relationships?” Leah nudged her shoulder softly.

“Why are you answering my question with another question?”

“Why are you?” Leah countered with a chuckle.

“Fair enough.”

“So, what’s really going on?”

Angelica slid her fingers through her hair, selecting a particularly grimy hank, and began sorting grit out of it, strand by strand. “Noah wants a relationship.”

“Stubble McVineyard wants a commitment?” Leah’s perfectly formed eyebrows rose as high as they could go.

Angelica nodded. “We had sex in an elevator. And then he said he wants more.”

“More than elevator sex?” Leah blew out an exaggerated puff of air. “Must have been something.”

“Oh, it was.”

“Do you want more?”

“I don’t know. I think I do, but then I realize I barely know the guy.” She twisted her body to face Leah, not caring about the dust and grime that would lodge its way into the fibers of her jeans. “Did you know his father is some incredibly famous winemaker? And his mother is like the queen of high society, or something.”

“Noah? But he wears flannel shirts.”

“I know.” Angelica shook her head. “He also wears three-thousand-dollar suits.”

Jai had given his estimate of Noah’s tailoring costs before they’d parted ways for the evening. With a couple of digs about rich lumberjacks thrown in for good measure, of course.

Leah stared at Angelica for a few moments, her face morphing from thoughtful to skeptical and then determined before she settled on sympathetic. “Unless he’s done something terrible you haven’t mentioned, I’m failing to see the problem here. He’s handsome as sin, fucks in elevators, and he’s rich. Plus, he lives right next door. What’s not to like?”

“I just … didn’t expect him to want more.” Angelica frowned. “I can handle friends with benefits. I’m good at friends with benefits. A relationship is …” She trailed off, uncertain.

“Honey. A relationship is what you deserve.” Leah put her hand on Angelica’s wrist. “He’s a good guy, and he’s into you. Give yourself a shot.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I also think you should let me do something about your hair.”

Angelica laughed. “Now that, I won’t argue.”

* * *

Angelica met Noah for lunch the next day. Feeling absurdly nervous, she tugged the hem of her shirt down as she sat in the window table at Frankie’s and waited for him. She’d worn a cream-colored cable-knit sweater tee with a mock turtleneck over jeans, a nod to the incoming autumn weather, although it was still warm enough that she was glad it was short sleeved. The knit pattern did nice things for her curves, and she knew for certain the color was the perfect accent against the tan she’d gotten over the last few months.

A real tan! She hadn’t had one of those since she’d left home at eighteen to start modeling. She admired the skin on her forearm briefly, a smattering of light freckles dotting the spot just inside her elbow, then looked up when she heard the door open.

Noah made his way straight toward her without even nodding to acknowledge the hostess. Everybody knew him, of course, so the woman just rolled her eyes and turned to greet the next customer as Noah made a beeline for the window—and Angelica.

“Hi,” she said, smiling up at him. She’d called him after Leah had left and asked to meet. He’d suggested lunch without pressing her about what she wanted to discuss. Just as well, since she wasn’t entirely sure herself.

“Hey.” He pulled out the chair opposite and sat down, his eyes roaming over her like she was a glass of water in the middle of the desert. She might not know exactly what she was going to say next, but she knew it was nice to be appreciated.

“I asked you to give me time,” she blurted without preamble.

“Yeah.” He eyed her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of water, his expression unreadable.

“I think I’m ready.”

He set the glass down and leaned toward her, his gaze warm. “Ready for what?”

“For—” She was interrupted by somebody banging on the window, causing her to leap nearly out of her seat. “What the hell?” She turned and found the beaming face of one of the producers from RenoTV staring at her from underneath the painted ‘F’ in “Frankie’s.” The skinny guy with hipster glasses and a too-long tie held up a finger and mouthed “hang on” through the glass.

She exchanged confused glances with Noah as the producer made a mad dash for the door.

“What’s that about?” Noah muttered.

“No clue.” Angelica frowned. “I don’t have any meetings scheduled.”

“Hi!” The man reached their table and extended a hand to Noah. “I’m so glad to meet you. And so glad to find you both in one place!” He shot a rapid glance at Angelica, but then his eyes quickly bounced back to Noah.

“Excuse me, but we’re—” Angelica stretched her hand out to halt his verbal onslaught, but the jerk just ignored her.

“I’m Ethan Lee. One of the associate producers on Miss Travis’s show.” He pumped Noah’s hand enthusiastically. “You’re Noah Bradstone, right?”

Angelica’s stomach sank as Noah’s eyebrows snapped down. Shit. That’s not good, she thought when he cast her a suspicious glare.

“I am,” Noah said.

Oblivious to the lack of encouragement in Noah’s tone, Ethan went back to babbling out his reason for interrupting their lunch. “It’s so great that I caught you both! I was going to try to set up a meeting, but maybe we can just talk about this now to get things moving quickly?”

“Get things moving?” Noah looked over at Angelica, who did her best to project that she had no idea what was happening.

“Yes! We have a proposition for you. For both of you,” Ethan corrected himself, finally turning so that Angelica was included in the conversation. Kind of him, since it was clear they were going to talk about her damn show.

“What kind of proposition?” she asked, eyes narrowed to angry slits. She was almost positive she wasn’t going to want to hear it.

“Well, since we found out who your famous neighbor is,” Ethan nodded meaningfully at Angelica, and she felt her entire body turn cold as Noah shot a suddenly blank expression her way.

What was that all about? Did he honestly think she’d called the network and told them she’d found a hidden pocket of high society in River Hill? She hadn’t even known about his other life until the night of the gala. But she didn’t have time to think about any of this, because Ethan was prattling on.

“We’ve had the whole marketing team working on how we might be able to expand on the foundation you’ve built here.”

“What do you mean?” Somehow, she got the words out while Noah’s eyes bored into her from across the table.

“Well, we’d really like to include some shots of Mr. Bradstone here to show how you’re marketing to the higher end of society, you know? A full feature role, honestly.” Ethan turned back to Noah with an encouraging nod. “And no need to worry—the network is happy to provide wardrobe and makeup. Even some extras in your tasting room for parties, if you’d like. Get a real vibe going there, you know?”

Noah’s expression transformed from blank to frozen, and Angelica grimaced. “Um, can you give us some time to talk about it?” she asked.

“Oh, sure.” Ethan bobbed his head again, like some kind of puppet. “Just let me know when you’re ready to get it all in writing!” He shook Angelica’s hand, not seeming to notice that Noah hadn’t extended his own. “My number is on your call sheet, Miss Travis,” he informed her, beaming at both of them before making his way out of Frankie’s.

“That was … unexpected,” she mused, hoping Noah didn’t think Ethan’s proposal had been her idea. Who on earth had put that bug in RenoTV’s ear?

“Was it?”

“Um, yes.” She frowned. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” he answered, crossing his arms and staring out the window.

“Don’t be like that,” she said, anger spiking through her. Why did he always assume the worst of her?

“Like what?”

“Like you think I’m some sort of monster whose only goal in life is to somehow impinge on your idyllic life here in quaint little River Hill.” She was being cruel, she knew, but so was he. How dare he act as though she were some sort of cackling villainess every time one tiny thing didn’t go his way?

He snorted but didn’t respond.

Angelica took a deep breath to calm her exasperated nerves. They weren’t going to get anywhere sniping at each other. She tried to remind herself that she’d asked him here so they could discuss how a relationship might work between them. She still didn’t know if that was a good idea, but she had feelings for Noah that she wanted to explore.

“Talk to me,” she said, trying not to make it sound like a plea. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” She could probably guess, based on the fact that his hand was fisted around his napkin in a grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. She bit her lip.

“I think you have a lot of fucking nerve.”